Remember my name

I wasn't going to post whether the CNJ printed my letter. I was going to be as discreet as I gave them the option to be. If they didn't print it, it didn't matter. If they did then they would have honoured my anonymity.

Following my two earlier posts, I needed to get out. I needed air and sugar. Off I float to the local newsagent to get a coke. It has a stack of Journal's so I pick one up. I decide there and then to have a brief flick through, to check. I often do this so am delighted, in my shattered, knackered state, that it's there! Name and address supplied!

I tell the newsagent because I always chat to him and his wife. I tell him I'm going to tell Supermario next door. Supermario believes my life is going to get better.

As I walk into the hairdressers, Irene Cara is blaring out her lungs on the radio.

"Remember my name FAME!
I'm going to live forever
I'm going to learn how to fly
HIGH!"

That's why I've blogged this. No-one in my community, not the newsagent, not supermario, not even the odd parent in my son's school, knows that I write a blog.
If I tell anyone else it's been published, they will of course think it's by me, not Stigmum. I have no proof, they only have my word. Fame?!

What the CNJ did was perfect. The words are important, not who wrote them. "Do people have to die?" is their headline. (And yes, I am rather chuffed my words weren't edited; that's an occupational expectation.)
Name and address supplied!

I can tell you about the way she looked
The way she acted, the colour of her hair
Her voice was soft and cool
Her eyes were clear and bright
But she's not there! (Zombies)

I really ought to thank the Journal but first let me post something about cakes, just to round off the morning's blogging.....